Vendetta of The Thistle
by beachchick3
Summary: Iona Gallach has just sworn her revenge. There is only one thing left to do. Poison literally dances on her tongue, "What is her name?" The red-head vampire smirks without amusement, "Isabella Swan." "Isabella Swan you will pay for what you did to me." [Emmett x OC]
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHING! THIS IS DONE FOR ENJOYMENT AND NO MONETARY WORTH IS BEING MADE FROM THIS STORY! ALL CHARACTERS AS WELL AS THE TWILIGHT SAGA WORLD BELONG TO STEPHANIE MEYER. THE OC'S including my protagonist Iona, however do belong to me, and cannot be used in other works without my permission. This will not be repeated every chapter, and will include this whole fanfic in it's entirety. **

_**AUTHOR NOTE:**_

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING THIS A CHANCE! LOVE YOU ALL! Here is my first try with an OC in the Twilight world that is looking quite promising. please enjoy! **

* * *

**Prologue**

I was going to kill her.

I, Iona Gallach, would end this blood feud and finally enact my revenge.

Nothing was going to stop me. I would end her life today, _no,_ only in a few moments.

The girl who thought she could steal my brother from me, was going to learn how much a sister could love her brother. Her loved ones would feel everything I had gone through. She was fool, and I would finally set things to rest once and for all. I would do so first by taking the life of this teenage mortal girl.

"Let her go! Bella is an innocent. She has harmed no one. We were the ones that killed James," I snarled, "you will regret taking her! If you want to leave alive, release her this moment," the golden-eyed vampire clan were raving mad for thinking I would stop so easily. I ate their agitation up as they helplessly stood by and allowed me so close to their precious one.

"You will be killed," their blonde-haired leader said with no ounce of hatred only pity for my actions, "if you kill the human. There will be no place that my coven will not search. Please think of your companions," I had no need for his pity, not when _they_ should be the ones afraid.

Victoria laughed with a crazed giddiness a rare smile playing on her lips. She whispers in my ear, "What do you have to say to this... this foolish patched up attempt for their redemption Iona?" She whispers even though everyone in the room can hear every word.

I smirked evilly with her,"You are right Victoria. It changes nothing, the past cannot be erased, and for your veiled threat I fear nothing! Not even death!" I told him, "this is justice, this is fair, this is right," I bring my lips to her neck, and the human's mate rushes at me. He is thrown away from the force of the vampire near me. They watch as my lips descend to her carotid artery ready to finish this. All the while Victoria is egging me on, and I am more than obliging to do so.

I look up to catch their eyes as I take her life right before their very eyes. That is when I see him. My lips stop parted on the human's neck. I watch as he stands near a blonde-haired female, but I could care less who she was. There _he _is. He stands there in this cold wet field never looking better. He is solid, moving, and alive. I am frozen watching him twitch in agitation from my intense open-jawed stare. He has the same adorable dimples, curled black hair cut short instead of hanging from the nap of his neck, chiseled features dominant with a strong nose, massive frame, and the small crinkled eyes that should be filled with recognition, but instead are filled with loathing and confusion.

"Brydon?" I whisper.

He does not recognize the name, even though it belonged to him once. My un-beating heart lurches inside of me while the mortal girl struggles in my hold. What mimicry have these gold eyed clan done to me? What bewitchment have they placed on me.

I wipe my eyes again, but alas the image of Brydon stays. Gods above, what torture this is.

"Brydon Moireach? Is that you?"

The doppelganger of Brydon only grew more agitated under my inspection. It was impossible, how could he be here, unless... _**o****h god** _w_hy was this happening to me now. _

Victoria notices my recognition, "Stop fooling around! Finish her! FINISH HER NOW!"

I do something that surprises everyone. I run. I leave the human girl there. I leave Victoria.

I run away, and do not dare look back.


	2. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR NOTE:**

**CHAPTER 1 is up! **

**THANKS FOR STICKING TO THE STORY! You are in for one hell of an adventure! **

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Peaceful**

* * *

_Definition: __**peaceful**__: adj. free from disturbance; tranquil. / noun. not involving war or violence._

* * *

"He won't survive with these fractures. I will have to put him down," Iona grabs the baby lamb carefully holding the broken back legs and pulls him over her head, "come now, **_beag _****_piuthar_**,there is nothing we can do."

She takes the rocky descent down Ben Nevis her feet artfully finding all the niches in the rocky mountain impossible to catch with the naked eye.

She can see everything with her hawk like inspection of the land. Iona of the Highlands is able to distinguish the smallest of detail with no purpose except appreciation of her native Scottish land. _Nothing_ is hidden from her as she descends.

The Scottish Highlands is a dangerous trek if you do not have the land known by heart. Iona does not have the land known by heart, but by her soul. It is difficult to explain unless one has not experienced the Scottish Highlands in person. The land here is attached to her in a way that frightens her, and excites her at the same time. The earth sings under her feet as she jumps from one ledge to the other, the wind is like a lover's caress on her bare back, and arms, but it can be just as cruel to the young and weak. It crushed the lambs hind legs with one boulder, but its beauty still rang true with every glance she took across the expanse of green woodland. _What a paradox life is_, Iona thought to herself.

Her follower speaks up, "But we can make him better can't we. We can tape the back legs with leather and moss. The way we did last time, and we can watch him get better. Only last week you told me that all things can be possible with some work behind it! Well I worked for two weeks to get him a good sheep mother, and now he goes and messes it all up!" Iona peeked at the petulant face of her partner, "He can't die Iona. He can't, I raised him!"

Iona bounced off a wall, and flipped backwards making the baby lamb _baw_ in fear, "All things die, Clarina. The same way the animals of this forest live day by day so should we. The earth is constantly changing all around us, and the greatest change happens when things come to an end. It is inevitable."

"What does _inevitabl_e mean?"

"It means it cannot be stopped," with two more flips they had made it to the bottom, the baby lamb still intact. "Do not let the death of this lamb deter you; you will raise thousands of sheep just like this one. Do not let one death stop the love you have for those we care for."

Iona knew that her younger partner was unaware of how much time had a way of changing people, and the many possibilities it gave someone to change back. Clarina would understand with time, "I do make a good shepherdess, _don't I! _Iona? What do you suppose; maybe another fifty years and we can say I am expert?"

They made it safely to the wood floor unnoticed by animals and hikers, "Not that long I hope, or we would be wasting a lot of precious time. I am getting tired of sheep, they stink too much," she took a whiff of lamb pretending, "Smells very much. Yes, I want to try cattle next year," she was joking of course.

"That is not funny, I love our sheep."

"_I know I know_ I just wanted to see the look on your face. You are so cute when you're angry," Iona teased, "like a little kitten."

"You are so mean Ona!"

Iona laughed at Clarina's face. The little one did not find this amusing, "that was not funny! You know how much our flock especially this one means to me. All my work I have done. I have sheered, guarded against predators, and even sang to them. You can't get rid of them!"

Clarina reached up and petted the lamb softly, "don't worry about the _mean lady_. I won't let her do away with you. Today is going to be just perfect; you will have a wonderful last day. I promise. Ona you must promise to never sell the sheep. Not ever!"

"I won't, I won't, my lovely one," I kiss her platinum curls on her head. It was difficult not to deny her a thing. Her aura made me want to protect her always, and was one of the sole reasons I had taken her under my wing as my Ward, "I would never dream of it. Here take the lamb to the flock, and keep working on those songs I taught you."

Iona looked to the herd of sheep near their cottage, inspecting everything. It looked clear enough for her to venture alone.

"_Oh Shenandoah_? The one about one of the rivers of North America, is that the one?" I pulled on one of her curls watching it spring back to the mass of blonde curls around her head. She was half of my height so I had to bend down to her, "yes, that is the one."

"I will," she bounced away looking like a small lamb herself. Iona sighed; _she is just a ball of energy filled with innocence. _One would never guess that such a youngling could cause so much havoc and destruction, and not in the playful sense.

"IOOONNNAAA!" Clarina yells in panic.

Iona looks up.

Clarina has stopped skipping.

Instead of continuing on to the cottage Clarina freezes in the middle of the sunlight field of mountain flowers. This field is plentiful with flowers of purple primrose, twinflower, sandworts, and mountain avens which are too short to hide predators. The sun rays pour on Clarina's frozen form bouncing off her sparkling porcelain skin. Iona snarls. Her instincts go into overdrive, the poison filling her mouth, and an animalistic growl surfacing from her throat.

In seconds she has her Clarina, and protects her in sweeping motions around her. Iona shields her from whatever has terrified her. She uses her sensitive eyes again and searches across the open field, the caves, the woods, looking for the attacker. She expects a rogue vampire, a hiker, or something that would scare Clarina into calling for her.

"The lamb died," Clarina sniffles behind her. She stops searching.

She is correct.

The lamb died. If she had paid attention more intently she would have noticed that the lamb's heart has stopped upon reaching Clarina.

It must have been the trauma from the boulder that fell. Upon further inspection the lamb did have a fissure in the back of the head. It died of internal bleeding; Iona watches the lamb blood drip on her fingers.

The crimson warm liquid is a dull sting on the back of Iona's windpipe, but not enough for her to want it. Clarina seems immune to all forms of blood so she cries deeply into the neck of the lamb. The lamb blood smeared on her little angelic face, "I am so sorry. I am so sorry," her pleas fall short on the lifeless lamb babe, "my poor_ wee_ little lamb!"

"Come now, there is nothing that can be done. Let's go home, so we can bury him," Iona pushes them toward the cottage at the end of the isolated mountain field, "it's no use being out in the open like this."

They bury it a field away. All the while Clarina shedding unseen tears as she helps with the burial. Iona said a few prayers over the body. It was shame to see life die so young. It left an awful taste of memories in her mind.

"Amen," she finished and walked away. Clarina followed in suite.

They made it back in plenty enough time. The sun was setting, and soon it would be dark. Then they would watch over the flock as they practiced their signing. Iona excused herself as she searched for a towel to wipe the blood off her, and to offer some to her little sheep herder partner.

"You have blood on your cheek, Clarina," Iona tries to wipe it off. Clarina grabs it wiping it off herself, "I am not a _child. Need I remind you I am a hundred years old._ I can wipe it off myself, thank you."

"Of course, you can. I was only helping." She takes steps back from the irritated little vampire.

"Excuse me for a moment. I need some air," Iona excuses herself from the awkwardness that has come between them.

"I will take to drawing," Clarina went into the back room.

Iona bobbed her head, and left the cottage giving her little friend some space. It would do no good for them to have an argument over silly things. They would work it off soon enough.

She walked outside and scoped the area.

It seemed that this was the pastime of her life. The mere art of sweeping her homeland with her overly critical eyes seemed to be effortless for her. It was second nature for her to get lost in the happenings of nature that surrounded her homemade cottage of stone. Two hundred years this cottage had stood, and here she would stay for the rest of her days. It was a peaceful place to call home, and that is how Iona liked things. Peaceful. **_Suaimhneach latha_****, **calm day, father would have called it.

The thing about peace was that it was bound to be broken.

She heard it before she saw it. A wisp of red and a blur of limbs as it raced from the woodland across the field. Iona hissed at the intruding vampire, but stopped as the female neared. Clarina came out of the cottage hissing, and summoning her powers. She was held back by her Elder vampire.

"Who is the intruder?" Clarina asked quietly.

"An old friend," Iona responded.

"Victoria! Is that truly you?!" Iona yelled happily. She bounded across the mountain field expecting to clasp hands with her good friend, and long-time comrade in arms. Instead she was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, and felt the sobs roll off her. Something terrible had happened.

Victoria gasped in her ears as if she couldn't breathe. As if someone was chocking her, or she had taken a mean beaten to the gut. Iona knew that something had happened. She brushed her wild blood red hair trying to calm her down. It was not working, and her mind progressed one small, but important fact.

"Victoria? Are you alright? Where is James?"

Victoria shuddered even more. She went into another horrible fit of sadness. Clarina came to the two clasped woman feeling sorrow for Victoria, even though she had never met her. In this clan Iona believed they cared deeply for their own, and protected them fiercely.

James had done something terrible, and Iona was going to find out. "Where is _Jaime_, Victoria? Did he do this to you? If he did he has another thing coming! I swear when I get my hands on him, he is finally going to know how it feels to be hunted down!"

"Please don't"- she breathed deeply, "It is too much."

"Just tell me, I know my brother can be a complete **_gòrach_**."

"He is dead," Victoria whispered in my ear, words that haunt me still, "they ripped him to pieces. Those animal fuckers killed him, and it is all her fault!"

"_Her_?"

Victoria lets me go to stare at me with vengeful burning eyes only to see them reflected in my equally hate-filled crimson irises.

Her words were heavy with promise, "You are going to help me kill them all, Iona. The time has come for us not to hold back against those that carelessly murder the ones we love. I am going to see this through till justice is restored. This time the _Thistle_," the name calls to my bones, "will help me get my revenge."

Iona had only one thing to say to that, "The Thistle accepts your request."

* * *

**_Gaelic phrases_**

**_beag _****_piuthar- little sister_**

**_gòrach- foolish brained man_**

* * *

**_HOPE YOU ALL LIKED IT!  
LEAVE A REVIEW IF YOU DID!_**

**_beachchick3_**


	3. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR NOTE:**

_**Thank You! Thank You! I appreciate the wonderful feedback!**_

**A special shout out to _rotten daydreams_! LOVED THE REVIEW! I hope to keep the story interesting, and stay true to the characters!**

**Thank you for all of you that favorite, and followed this story after only two chapters you are all AMAZING! **

**I hope to keep this fiery ball of adventure and revenge rolling! WHo knows were it might go... or who it can take down with it :)**

**ENJOY! **

* * *

**Chapter** **2**

**Catharsis**

* * *

_**Definition**: **Catharsis**: __"__the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions."_

* * *

The world stops for no one.

Life goes on.

Iona is having a hard time understanding this.

The sun has set, mist has rolled over the mountain ranges of the Highlands, and the crescent moon creeps up in the sky beaming down on a field of wildflowers and a cottage nestled underneath the mountain of Ben Nevis. The moon's Cheshire grin illuminates the flock that has now settled in their pen hut, shut tight for the night. There is movement in the stone cottage.

The stone forged dwelling has windows covered by wool, but the soft glow of candlelight allows for shadows of the inhabitants to be displayed for the wilderness to watch.

"What do you think you are doing?" A flash goes off in the cottage of the Scottish highlands, "Put that away now!"

The outburst ricochet on the mountains disturbing the dark peace of night. It is the only conversation for hundreds of miles in all directions a _sore_ in nature's side. Nature has its own noises of night owl calls, a wolf howling to Mother Moon, rustling of grass gently touched by the wind, and the symphony of crickets chirping a crescendo and decrescendo to a disorderly beat of, _chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp._

Iona rubs her temple to the insanely repetitive beat of the mini violinist.

Another flash goes off, "Hold still, and stop covering your face," a child's giggle erupts joyfully only moments after. Flash. It is followed by a loud growl, and then a round of more giggles. Flash.

In childhood no one can die. It is a place where time cannot touch you, and you go to bed with promise instead of feeling time lost. It is an age when the world is a wonder and mystery. It is a time bountiful with new and fresh encounters. It is a place where things cannot be gone, or taken away. _Childhood_… is dead. Iona thought bitterly, _and so is my brother_.

"Will you stop taking pictures of me?!"

"You have beautiful hair," Clarina flashed another photo as Victoria, "it is like a living and breathing bonfire. Don't be shy; you are very beautiful to look at. I bet you would make a lovely fire nymph," says the cherub flitting across the room looking for more angles, "wow, what sharp canines you have."

"_Iona_," Victoria snarls through clenched teeth.

"She enjoys her Greek literature," Iona mumbles.

"I don't care what she likes. I like my personal space. So, _control _your evil Shirley Temple before I smash that camera."

"Clarina, Gallach," Iona says lightly her voice monotone, "May you please leave Victoria alone before she smashes your _very old_ camera that will not be replaced until we sell your flock."

The little cherub frowns, and backs off. She looked like a dog bit her, and that is too adorable not to chuckle at.

_That Clarina, she is too easy to persuade, upon_ hearing Iona's request she blurred to her room. It was evident that Clarina hid her vintage Polaroid Land Camera safely away from _aggravated_ vampires that could very easily smash it into a million unidentifiable pieces.

Clarina came joining Iona at the dinner table.

Iona sighed into her hands. _James._ Why _did you do this to yourself?_ Iona thought.

Victoria gave an accusing glare at Clarina, "Why are you looking at me like that? Don't think I was doing it on purpose. I was just entertaining myself. You guys haven't moved for hours."

_She is right._ Iona had not even felt the time rush by so fast without her noticing, but it did. Mourning omitted time it would seem. She has been still as stone for half the night, and yet her limbs did not feel tired, her stomach did not hunger, and her throat did not thirst.

_Well_, not in that sense.

Iona had not moved a muscle since inviting Victoria into their home. They had been silent after the announcement of James Gallach's death, and the detailed description of those that did it.

"They are unstoppable," Iona had said after the news, "There is nothing we can do against those odds. I would not risk our lives against such odds," Iona felt cheated out of her chance to stop those who did this.

It was as if time truly stood still in Iona's mind. The time for mourning was now, and she would do it the Celt way. With a bottle of scotch, and sing tunes with a chorus of pipes playing songs of old to be until the _wee_ morning hours. Iona watched Victoria with the side of her eye. She had been silent for a while as well.

Iona would have offered her a bottle of scotch so they could both toast to him, but regurgitating it was nasty business, and Iona was honestly not in the mood for sticking her finger down her throat. Human diet was near impossible to keep down as one of the undead.

Victoria twirled a piece of cloth in her fingers sitting in a sandalwood chair. It was used for sitting when playing the harp or the bagpipes that belonged to an old maid that once lived here. She had died two hundred years ago, but Iona could still hear those bag-pipes playing like it were yesterday. James knew how to play the bagpipes. That memory brought on a whole new grief to know she would never him play. He was so talented.

This was so depressing, but it was something she was going to have to come to terms with.

So, she let the memories flood in, and it was painful as she shifted quickly through the human and vampire memories that comprised of James Gallach; her older brother.

She started with the foggy human ones progressing to lucid clear vampire ones. She was hiking up the Scottish Highlands for a hunt when they were _wee lad and lass_, dinner was served with a smoked boar's hide on a long wooden table; a child in every seat, sipping with King Louis XIV as James told stories of trapping, James introducing Victoria for the first time as the one that he let get away, the betrayal of him not returning for fifty years, his decision of living a false life as a supposed son of a French trapper, the nonsense of hunting for the sake of sadistic pleasure, the horrible sins he created for his selfish desire of dominance, the way he cut and ripped into their own…._STOP STOP!_

"AAAAhhhhhhhhhh," Iona gasped loudly.

"Iona!" Clarina grasped at her leader, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes do not fuss over me. I just…need to understand why?" The next grueling emotion bubbled to the surface, sadness. _Heart-wrenching sadness._It was not an unknown fact that vampire emotions are vigorous and are prone to induce tremendous acts of violence. Iona would be damned to let it control her, "I need to control this, give me one moment," Iona hissed through her teeth, and Clarina sat back in her seat allowing her a moment of control.

He was gone and he was not coming back. Iona's shoulders shook, and she squeezed her eyes as if she had swallowed an entire lemon.

_James was gone._ Iona would never him laugh, curse in Gaelic, catch the crinkle in his forehead when he was irritated or brooding, or the smell of maple and spice that she recognized as his scent.

_Let's get one thing straight_, He was not a saint, he did not even make a worthy sinner, he was worth less than the sheep shit under her foot, Iona would confess no less. Though James was still blood, and he was there at the most horrendous moment in her existence. Such moments bind you to people, even if you do not wish it.

Victoria's eyes softened upon seeing Iona's grief, but she made no move to aid the mourning sister of her lover. This pain would help her _Cause_ soon enough.

Clarina felt the need for conversation, "Hey, don't do that, Iona. We are here. Hey, what are these," she tried distraction, "what are you looking at? Are those the pictures of James," she asked with forced enthusiasm at seeing the man that had caused this waterfall of emotions out of her clan leader.

The pictures were spread on the table. A scowling or snarling man in every photo, light brown hair tied back and red eyes daunting at the photographer_. Darn him_ for despising photos and never once gracing at least a smirk on behalf for those that wished him a moment of happiness. Iona thought, _he smiled alright, but it was not for the photos. _

Iona collected them into a pile, and then put them facedown. She had enough of them. They were put there by Victoria that asked for any _mementos _of the lover she had not seen in eleven months. _Eleven months!_ It might as well be a year.

He was murdered March 16th of last year. What had she been doing that day? Basking in the sun, herding sheep, and enjoying life, how pitiful could she be to his memory? He had been dead eleven months, and Iona had not even felt his absence, and had gone on living every day without even a moment to think on him.

"Yes, they are of James," Iona pacified the stillness that had come between the three vampire woman, "he hated getting his photo taken. He had such good teeth, and he was so handsome when he smiled," Victoria's eyes connected with Iona's tortured ones. Iona sniffled, but it was just her body's memories of having tears. It was a great curse not to be able to shed tears that needed shedding.

Victoria stopped spinning the cloth, and looked out the window bitterness hung strongly around her, "Do you wish to know more about the one's that did this to him, or are you going to mope around some more? I think five hours is sufficient time, we are wasting hours sitting around doing nothing."

Iona snapped, "_Nothing? Nothing! This is not nothing_. If my moping for my brother bothers you than leave," Iona said, "if the dead are not given mourning then they can never truly be at rest. Let me pay homage to my brother's soul, at least then maybe this universe can give him some peace," he was a soul that needed a lot of peace, "I will not deny him what he was not given in his life."

"You think you love him more than me?" Victoria snapped just as viciously, "You think your love is greater than mine? Then you are wrong. I loved James, and _I am trying_ Iona, _I am trying _to make this right, by going after those that dared do this to him."

These were James' words not Victoria's. This tirade of hate was just warped and twisted into her own sweet soprano. This would only get her killed, and bring only more loss and pain, "This is not a competition Victoria. Have you learned nothing? You are throwing a fit, because they took him away from _you_. Not that he was_ taken_. _Now, Vick_," she patronized her brother's lover, "Even that sounds a little narcissistic to me."

"Did you call me _narcissistic_?" Victoria snarled pushing the chair making it crack in half as it made impact with the stone wall. Vampire strength is the bane of household appliances, "Sure keep breaking things Victoria see if that makes a difference," a plate went flying wide and Clarina ran into her room slamming the door behind her.

Iona stood up smashing another unused plate on the ground. That got Victoria's violent charade to stop; "Now you listen well! You are not a narcissist; _no_ you are acting far worse. I should have called you a she-devil absolutely self-indulged in selfish pursuit, too blinded by revenge, to understand that James…" there was the pain, "is dead, and he would have wanted us to leave this feud to peace. He started it, he finished it, and that is the end of the story."

Victoria mimicked a lioness as she snapped her white canines in a growl, "You have no idea who James is! You never knew him the way I did! I AM THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED! I am the one that has stood by him, through the ugly, and the bad," Victoria clawed at the dining table her nails leaving scars in the wood, "This clan MURDRERD HIM! The _Cullens," _she spitted venom_, "_did not just take him away, they erased him from existence, and he would have rolled in his grave if he thought for one second I would"—

"You would what? Murder them back? How are you going to do that? How are you going to redeem my brother's death? _By playing God_, look how good that turned out for him. It would kill me to see that happen to you Victoria. You were special to my brother, and I have known you for years too many to count."

"THEN WHY WON'T YOU HELP ME! WHY WON'T YOU BECOME THE THISTLE WARRIOR I REMEMBER?"

"Because she died a long time ago," Iona whispered, "and the fact still rests that you are dealing with this like a chicken without a head."

"I have a plan, and it might actually work."

"Enlighten me, then. Go on, tell me your infallible plan that will destroy this clan of what did you say, was it _seven vampires_, and what was it again, the last, oh yes, _eight werewolves?_ Tell me how you are going to get past that little army of protectors."

"_Five_ werewolves actually, and it is doable, if you are willing to go all the way."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It pays off being a nomad," she reminded the stoic Iona that had not left Scotland in a hundred years, and stayed at only this cottage for a good portion of it. The outside world held no interest to her.

"To be unafraid of touring the world, meeting people, and learning," a ghost of smile graced her features, "how to be a better predator." Yes, she was aware of that, and had no regrets staying _far far away_ from those _learning experiences_, "We met many talented vampires, but not like in the American south. That sweaty shithole of a place was breeding ground for power gifted vampires, and they were pouring out of its ass," those crude words sounded wrong in Victoria's sweet bell like voice. Iona disapproved of such vulgarity.

"I'm sure you did," Iona picked up the pieces of plate, mummering in Gaelic swears for ruining something that was not easily replaceable, "and I suppose you got your plan while you were touring this place."

"No, we met someone."

"Spectacular," the door of Clarina's bedroom opened and a small eye peeped through. Iona saw this, but decided not to act.

"James met a female vampire, by the name of Maria. She was a vampire commander in a south of North America. A legion leader with the power of a vampire army, and she was able to destroy her enemies with the flick of her hand. Think of the possibilities? She had a second-in-command to help with bringing order, but she delt with her enemies in her own way, in her own time, and her soldiers were the casualties, not her."

"Don't be stupid, you know why we cannot dare do that. The southern clans brought too much attention, and were annihilated for it. They have no lenience to any person. A crime is a crime, and there is no grey area."

"I dance on grey lines. After James death I reconvened with her in Brazil, and she showed me the secrets to get my revenge," Victoria smacked her lips, "and when the time comes, I will dance on the vampire bones of my enemies."

Her answers kept on getting better, and better! _How idiotic could her plan get, or suicidal? _"Then you will be dancing on yours as well."

Victoria guffawed, "Why should I fear them? All they have caused is misery, and I would suffer whatever charges if it meant I had the Cullen clan burnt to ash, and for dessert I can have their heads on spikes."

"You really don't understand their capabilities do you? They are the ruling party Victoria. This isn't some monarchy, that they will slap your hand if you use pretty words, and coy smiles. They will rip you to shreds, and then burn you!"

"Like the Cullens did to James!"

"It will happen to you too, if you are not smart enough to know when enough is enough."

"I was there when they stole my only sister from me. She did nothing wrong, and they still killed her for it. The Volturi take whatever is given for them. I just won't leave any loose ends for them to find me… I mean us."

"You only care about yourself Victoria, do not pretend to have a spine."

Victoria was offended now, "You say what you want, but the offer still stands. For the record don't patronize me on the suffering the Volturi can give. I knew the cost then, and I know it now."

"You are breaking the rules Victoria. This MEANS CERTAIN DEATH!"

"Says the one with the immortal child!"

In a flash Iona was across the room. Iona grabbed the red-heads hair pulling her to the ground, "be silent you viper!" Fear coursed through Iona as she dared think the possibility of such scandalous news reaching the ears of the Volturi, or anyone with the knowledge of what this would mean.

"She is twelve years old, and has the rational capability of any person, perhaps even greater than those twice her age."

"Will the Volturi wait for such an explanation," was Victoria's reply as her body assumed the submissive position. Iona was the warrior.

Iona was younger than Victoria by two hundred years, but it was she with years of experience serving under masters of battle. Victoria new this fact and allowed her the upperhand. Victoria reflected on the white scar that ran across Iona's porcelain cheek down her neck, there was a reason Iona chose a life of a loner. She was too changed to enter back into society, and her proposal of revenge would have to be good to get her attention to leave her homeland.

Iona snarled unaware of Victoria's analysis, "Do not believe just because I allow you into my home, bring out the old photos, and play devil's advocate with you means I will not do the Volturi's job here and now, and pound you until you are fine dust. Do not ever say those words in this house, do you understand me," she pushed Victoria even harder into the ground, "do not make me angry. James did not only share blood with me, we Gallach's protect our own, and we were known for our tempers. I will be damned if you say one foul word to any of my clan, especially when those words can endanger them. Is that understood?"

Victoria nods, but Iona is dissatisfied, "I said. Is. That. Understood."

"Yes, yes, get off me you crazy bitch!"

And the _vulgarity _had returned, "Get out! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"Iona I did not mean anything by it!"

"I will not have any more vulgar words spoken in my household. If your lecherous tongue cannot control itself then I will have to remove it before you even leave this dwelling."

"Is that a threat?!"

"No, it is a promise," Victoria snarled at Iona's words raising her hand up in a mock move.

"Bring it!" Iona was dead set on kicking Victoria back to Tim-Bak-Tu! She could plot somewhere where she was far away from Ben Nevis, and far away from causing harm to Clarina.

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!"

"Clarina?"

"I want to help Victoria," Clarina said quietly.

"This is not something that concerns you," Iona began. She knew that Clarina listening in on their conversation of vampire armies, the Volturi, and immortal children was a bad idea.

"I want to fight for something, and I am actually good at it. We have been practicing for years and I am ready." Clarina decided.

"**P****iuthar**, this is not the same."

"Iona you can not keep me this way," Iona with great patience let her have her say, "too long have I been coped up here, and it is high time we think of others instead of ourselves. I am sick of hiding, and I think you are too," Iona gave no response.

"What about the sheep?" Clarina would never leave her sheep; Iona knew this to be true.

"They will be fine. Hepatia will watch over them if I ask her. She may be a hermit in the mountains, but she is our friend she will safeguard them until we return."

"Wait there is no WE IN THIS CLARINA! I FORBIDE YOU TO LEAVE FROM HERE! I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU!"

"Then I will go by myself," Clarina shrugged, "either with you or without you I will help Victoria. There is no stopping me, and it would cause me great sorrow if I had to suppress you if need be, but let us not get to that. You are my only family, my piuthur, and I would hate to leave you so harshly. Listen Iona, someone wise once told me that when others ask for help, all a person can do is say yes. Well I am doing just that, and nothing you say can change my mind. It is made up."

_She_ _had_ _been_ _listening_, a glow of maternal pride filled Iona, but she knew that all those theological and moral conversations would come back and bite her, and how awful this bite felt.

"What a smart girl you raised," Victoria patted Clarina's head, and Clarina brushed her hand off, "at least you got the spunk to stand in what you believe in. Even if you are an evil Shirley Temple, I guess we can find a space for you among the ranks. We will have to do something about this height thing? You are so tiny all your enemies can see over your head."

"Do not touch me," Clarina commanded her right fist rose, and with it the kitchen knives floated towards where Victoria stood as well as the broken pieces of chairs, "I have a power greater than you can even imagine, and I ask you not. to. test. me." She new that all these emotions would be taxing on a grown vampire, but doubled for Clarina. When emotions rose so did Clarina's powers, and at this moment she was deadly.

"_Enough Clarina_, you will not harm her," Iona settled her clan partner from using her telekinesis on Victoria's flabbergasted face.

"_Incredible, just incredible_. You are hired! How come you never told me of such a gift! and you said the odds are not in our favor, we could win a fight any day with that power," greed glowed on Victoria's face, "There is much to be done. Come you two there is no time to waste."

"Clarina is not going anywhere with you."

"I said I am," Clarina reminded her clan leader.

"She is coming Iona if you like it or not. That means that you are tagging along for the long haul."

Iona raised her hand a piece of broken plate directed at the red-head, "If you think this is going to make me go Victoria you are sorely mistaken. Bloodshed only brings more bloodshed and I do not feel comfortable having Clarina close to so much danger."

"It is not up to you," Victoria opened the cottage door, and the night air peeked into the tense argument of the immortals, "come now before the night grows old."

"I will not let what happened to my family, happen to Clarina."

Victoria froze on the threshold of the wooden carved door, and Clarina have a suprised gasp a hand to her small chest.

"What do you mean?" Clarina stood next to her leader clasping hands with her, "you have never spoken of your family."

"I think it is high time this story is told. Close the door Victoria, this may take a while."

"_**Great**_ more time wasted," Victoria sarcasm was truly grinding on Iona, but she did catch her intrugue of hearing more about James past, "it's no wonder you live in this hovel you never get anything done around here." Iona bit her concrete strong tongue, bating her anger to just bide it's time. Iona had centuries to get that _**aingidheachd**-she-**deamhan** _back.

"I was only nineteen that summer, and it was the most horrendous moment of my life."

"And you call me narcissist, don't give me a boo-hoo story about how you died too young, and never had the chance of saying goodbye to your family."

"That is not how the story went. Be silent Victoria! I am just beginning!"

"Fine, please continue."

"It began the summer of the year 1703, and it was that day in July that my life changed forever…."

* * *

_**Gaelic phrases**_

**Piuthur- **sister -used as a term of affection from Iona to Clarina

**_aingidheachd- _**_adj. evil_

**___deamhan- _**___noun. devil_

* * *

**I HOPE THAT WAS NOT TOO MUCH OF AN INFORMATION OVERLOAD! As you can see there will be some flashbacks on Iona's familial roots as well as the origin of _how she turned! Can't wait till next time!_**

_**I am taking a poll!**_

**Do you want to hear more flashbacks or more from the present timeline! YOU CHOOSE!**

FLASHBACKS-

ORIGINAL TIMELINE-

**love you all for your time and devotion to this fic! You all rock! Already have the chapter written, will be posted after 8 reviews! **

**Besos,**

**beachchick3**


End file.
